The Love of a Servant Girl
by Chrissy0Chris
Summary: After the Pevensies have left Narnia, never to return, Caspian is in desperate need of a friend. In his servant Briga, he finds that and more.  Rated M for Lemony goodness toward the end. Oneshot CaspianxOC. Read and Review!


I have traveled to the edge of the world, to the very gate of paradise. I have lain eyes upon the face of a star, and fell infatuated with her glow. I have tasted the lips of the fairest queen to ever walk upon Narnian soil. Still, nothing has captivated me more…set my heart pounding with such fervor as the love of a servant girl.

Her skin is dusky, like the loaves she and her mother bake with such care. When she is dewy with the perspiration of her work, she glistens like a bead of jasper. Her body is as full and lush as the rolling hills in the distance, as sturdy as the earth itself. Her voice is a gentle rasp which moves mountains inside me whenever she utters "my lord" or in the privacy of my chambers whispers tenderly "sweet Caspian".

As I reflect, I cannot believe I never noticed her. Of course, I was aware of her presence in my castle- she drew my baths, brought my food and drink- but I never _noticed_ her…until that night.

We ported in Telmar after Lucy, Edmond and Eustace left for their world. Though we just walked away from a magnificent triumph I still felt… empty. Fruitless. I saw myself staring at the wall of water and sky… I felt whatever lay behind it call to me. Pull me. I thought of my father. The family to which I was born is no more, and the family I had grown to love… would never return. In a castle full of people…a land brimming with life… I was utterly alone.

Briga was the one to bring my meal and wine, both decanters. I thanked her and filled my goblet. Her eyes kept to my face, her mouth fixed in a frown.

"Yes?"

"Nothing at all, my lord."

"Are you certain?"

She gathered my used dishes and placed them on the tray. "Yes, lord… Except-"

"Except?"

"One must wonder…after the great victory… what has happened to put Your Highness is such seemingly…solemn…spirits…"

Her dark eyes fell to the wine, met my glance, and then fell back to her tray. Perhaps it was the drink, but I found myself amused.

"A girl who cannot write or read, a master of the pun. Imagine that…" I mused with a chuckle.

The words were not meant to be cruel, but I found my gauge for tact clouded. The girl appeared to be stung. She hung her head, which was wrapped about with mauve cloth to tie back her hair.

"Forgive me, my lord. I forgot my place."

Resting the tray against her hip, she curtsied and started to back out of the chamber. Even in my inebriated state, I could feel the pangs of regret in my stomach.

"No, no. Forgive _me_."

She looked up at me sharply, as though she heard a loud noise. She curtsied once more.

"…You noticed…"

"'Noticed', Your Majesty?"

"That I have not been myself lately," I clarified, "I believe you may be the only one who has cared to notice."

"With much respect, my lord, it isn't very hard to notice when a torch has lost its glow…"

I laughed ruefully at this.

"Torch? Lately, I'm barely an ember…compared to what my father was."

"If I may…Your Majesty is the sun of these lands. Your light brings new life to where hope was lost for many, many years. Any father would swell with pride…sire."

"And what if I myself cannot find the glow of daylight?"

She thought for a moment and cocked her head to the side before replying, "Then look to the eyes of your people, and undoubtedly Your Majesty will see the light reflected in them."

I burst "What are you called?" as she turned to go.

She wheeled around.

"Briga, my lord."

"Briga…" I repeated, the sound bringing a smile to my lips, "Your words are a soothing balm, Briga. I should hope to hear more again soon."

She swooped again, her tray balancing against the deep concave above her hip, and she was gone. I sighed to myself.

"'Your words are a soothing balm'? Idiot."

She would not pass me in the corridors without receiving a smile, no matter how deeply in thought or conversation I was immersed. Her eyes would fall to me, but not so much as to reveal that she was taken with me… No… Just enough to make me wonder. Each time I saw her she seemed to grow more enchanting than the last. Her eyes were a bit more alluring, her body more voluptuous, her mane of curls more elegantly tousled behind her head-wrap. I would retire, recalling her image and placing it in the bed or the bath with me.

When a day passed where I would not see her, I would take alternate routes to each destination, hoping that perhaps she was hidden away in some secret part of the castle as mysterious as she. But that was mainly in passing. We were yet to share the same intimacy we had on that night.

"Where is Briga?" I inquired as my breakfast was brought to me by a frail girl, who appeared taken aback by my inquiry.

Briga, I found, was mainly confined to the kitchens. She left to lend a hand where needed throughout the day, which is when I would catch her weaving to and fro in the corridors.

"I could fetch her for you, my lord," offered the frail girl.

"No, no. Thank you, that won't be necessary," I nodded with a polite smile.

As it is the gentleman's place to call upon the lady.

Apart from the growths on the stone walls, the kitchens were a lively place. Women humming, men buzzing about with pots and pans, whizzing around whichever bump on a log has the gumption to enter without pitching in with the work. I went unnoticed by most, greeted with no more than a quick nod and an utterance of "Your Majesty" by a few. And then I happened upon her, stirring a cauldron of bread sticky bread dough with a paddle. I tapped her gently upon on the shoulder.

"Aslan's mane, what the devil-"

She whirled around, indignantly, instantly apologetic as her eyes roved my smiling face.

"Hello, Briga."

"My lord, apologies, I did not-"

"I shouldn't have sneaked up on you. Never frighten a woman wielding a paddle."

She eased as she shared a quick laugh with me, a laugh like a bubbling brook.

"Might I ask what brings Your Highness to the kitchens today?"

"Tasting the stew…"

The hunger in my heart likely reflected in my eyes, as she seemed slightly perturbed by my gaze.

I confessed, "I wished to see you again."

"Me?"

She seemed dumbfounded by the idea.

"Yes. You stirred me- _your words_ stirred me like nothing ever before. I might employ you to compose speeches for me."

I laughed, but more with my own giddiness than appreciation for the joke.

"I am glad I could help, Your Majesty."

"I've a new invigoration, thanks to you. I know you must be full of a billion interesting things to say, and I would like to hear them all. Maybe even write them down… teach you to read them…"

"You honor me, my lord…" she replied, yet she looked away.

"It would be _my_ honor, Briga…"

She laughed softly, and then louder. Louder still. I could feel myself grow red with mortification.

"What? Why ever are you laughing?" I urged, my panic apparent in my tone.

"Apologies, sire. I am sorry. I mean no disrespect in laughing, it's simply that…"

"What?" I prodded deeper still.

She looked into my eyes, almost as my equal, her plump lips stretched into a smile.

"I already know how to read and write."

"…You do?"

"Yes. My grandfather was a teacher."

"I… I'm so sorry. I assumed…"

"It is quite all right, my king," she smiled, picking up her paddle and resuming her work with an air of noble amusement.

Her disposition softened my embarrassment, and I took the opportunity to resume a shred of dignity.

"Well, then… Perhaps I should write you a letter sometime."

"Yes, sometime… I would like that very much, Your Majesty," she smiled as though indulging me.

"Tonight," I whispered earnestly, leaning against the cauldron, "I shall leave it under my dinner plate for you to claim when it is brought down here…And every night following."

I could tell that she detected the sincerity of my words as she nodded.

"Yes, my lord."

"I do wish you would call me Caspian intimately."

"Yes…Caspian."

I kept my promise. Every night for a month or more, I wrote to Briga, and every few nights she would write back: a short note of appreciation, briefly answering any questions or comments I might have addressed in the previous letter. We would pass each other with knowing smiles- secret companions. I told her of my nightmares about my father… how I've watched my uncle murder him in my dreams for the past three years. I told her of my fears, my inadequacies, my wishes for Narnia's and Telmar's future… and my own. And she would reply with a short yet poignant response to soothe me. I told her of Susan… and how I once thought I was in love. She asked me if I still thought of her, and I replied, "I think of Queen Susan on occasion, but I think of you far more frequently."

The responses that followed were briefer, more removed…penned out of duty more than anything else. When Briga returned my smile in the corridors, it was of the same subservient obligation. She met my gaze no longer than she had to… until she avoided it all together.

"Is it something I said?"

I must have startled her in the corridor because she jumped. She turned to face me as though dreading it.

"My lord…"

"You used to call me Caspian," I whispered softly, desperately, my hand finding hers.

She led me behind a large column.

"Caspian…"

"Your letters have changed. You won't even look at me anymore. Is it… is it because I admitted that I…"

I trailed off. I wasn't exactly sure what I had admitted to her.

"I really… I really don't know what you want from me, Caspian," she replied helplessly.

The phrase hurt me.

"Want from you?"

"Did you want me to say it back?"

"It isn't about what I want you to say-"

"But it is… Indefinitely. You are the king. It is all about what you want."

I pleaded with her, taking both her hands in mine. Even subjected to years of work, they felt like silk. I locked eyes with her. She seemed as though she wanted to look away, but physically could not.

"I would never use my title over you… In my eyes, we are as equals-"

"_We are not_… Caspian… My king…"

"Don't. Briga… I… I love you."

Water came to her eyes as she looked at me. In that very moment, for the first time, I could see her feelings. I knew that our hearts were reflections of one another's. Though she never complained as I did, she was frightened and insecure… And even though she didn't go about blurting it irresponsibly in the middle of a corridor, she loved me, too. Her tears brushed against my lips as she lay a sweet kiss upon my cheek.

"I cannot receive any more of your letters, Caspian. I'm sorry."

She released my hands and whisked off, removing the tears from her face as easily as they came.

I had three decanters of wine brought to my chamber that night. I thought, perhaps if she knew that I had returned to the state she had found me in, that she would swoop in and rescue me once more, but the clock struck the third hour of the morning, and Briga had not come to me.

I groped for parchment and I groped for quill and I groped for goblet, finishing it all, before feverishly scratching my thoughts onto the paper.

_Briga, My Love,_

_No amount of drink will drive you from my mind. Though I glare madly at this roll of parchment, all I see is you- your perfect face, your perfect form. You are the very image of fertility and womanhood. You are every inch a queen. If I am the sun, then be my earth. Let me warm you with my love until the day that my light burns out. _

_I was wrong when I said I've been in love before. What I felt for Susan was just boyish infatuation. This, Briga… This is love. This pulling I feel inside for you. This animal urge to be where you are every second of the day. This constant yearning for the touch of your skin upon mine, the feel of your lips upon mine, the lush curves of your body beneath mine- this, Briga, is love._

_My dreams… my nightmares… They have been replaced with images of you. You may blush when I tell you what is on my mind, but we have always been candid with one another. I must confess to you that I force myself to sleep at night just so I can dream of holding you in my arms, and tasting your sweet lips… Of learning every part of you with fingers and lips, and claiming you as my own forevermore. _

_I must also confess that I am a man of twenty-and-one, and I've yet to know a woman. Imagine that, Briga. I have waited twenty-one years… But I feel as though I cannot wait another second for you. I swear before Aslan I would march down to the kitchens and have you right now upon the floor if you would not hate me for proposing such a thing. _

_Know, my darling, that I need you more than air, want you more than glory, and love you more than all the lands I could ever possess. From the furthest reaches of the earth to the great wall where the sea meets the sky… and beyond…I love you._

_Your King, and Still Your Humble Slave,_

_Caspian X _

And when the frail girl returned to collect my decanters, I wrapped her hand tightly around the letter and bid her see it delivered to Briga.

I did not leave my chamber the next day. I was ill from drink, and ill of a broken heart. Someone suggested the servants bring me bread and tea to settle me, but I turned it away each time. They must have come every third hour.

By the fifth visit, I finally howled at the creaking open of door, "I don't want any damned tea! Gone with you!"

"Is this how you address my sisters, then?"

I sat up. My head whirled madly, but I would know her anywhere.

"Briga-"

"I told you no more letters, Caspian! I begged you!"

"What's the matter?"

I rose to embrace her. She was trembling.

"I've been teaching Gilda to read…"

"Gilda?"

"She brings you your wine."

I looked into her eyes, trying to discern her meaning.

"She thought it would be harmless to practice… But my mother found her with the letter."

I smiled the smile of a fool, stroking arms her to comfort her.

"Is that all? You'd think she'd be pleased that her daughter will be queen of Telmar-"

"Queen? They think I am your whore!"

The words were a like a blade to the gut. I was left wordless… windless. When I did speak, it bumbled.

"Wh-what? Why would they..?"

"I swear, you are like a boy sometimes! Because I am a servant and you are Caspian X."

The distress on her face made me feel heavy. I leaned down, eye-to-eye with her, making sure that she heard my every word.

"I have every intention of marrying you…"

"Intentions are lovely, but do you think your advisors will-"

"I don't care what anyone thinks or says! No one can stop us, Briga. No one but ourselves…"

I could feel myself smiling at her. The hope she instilled in me was teeming.

"You are not a whore… You are my queen. You are my goddess… My whole heart… And we will have each other, and we will be happy."

She smiled back, though tears ran down her face. I could see the love in her eyes again.

"I don't… I don't have what it takes to be a queen…"

I kissed her forehead, holding her close to me.

"It doesn't matter. You have what it takes to be my wife. The rest will follow."

For the very first time, our lips touched. I am not sure who initiated the union, but once the kiss was in motion, I knew there would be no stopping us from having one another. Our arms clung tightly, fastening us as one as lips sucked lips and tongues tentatively danced. My hands roved her body, drinking up each delicious curve. My mouth trailed across her jaw to her neck, tasting the soft, sweet skin. Briga gasped, and I pulled her even closer to me…against the straining manhood that yearned for her. We fell upon the bed.

My shirt was easily discarded, and I fumbled with my belt as I felt her lips upon my neck and collarbone. Her touch felt like magic in its purest form, coursing through my veins. I yanked at the laces of her dress, pulling at whatever would give way. She lie there in her slip, looking up at me as though shocked or…frightened by my eagerness. I smiled softly at her. She was not to be treated like a whore, but like a queen… worshipped and adored and appeased.

"Oh, my love…" I whispered, taking the time to stroke her cheek.

I pulled back her hair wrap. Her mane of curls sprang free in their full glory, framing her round face so gorgeously I couldn't help but touch them. Her hands reached up to tangle in my hair as well.

"My Caspian… My king…" she whispered tenderly.

I turned my face toward her hand and kissed it softly.

"My queen…"

I slowly hitched the hem of her slip up over her legs, over her thighs, over her soft belly, over the dark orbs of her breasts… I sat atop her, mesmerized.

"You're perfect…"

Greedy hands rushed over lush flesh, fingertips committing each inch of skin to memory. My mouth latched onto a breast…onto a nipple… and sucked slowly, savoring it like sweet. My love moaned and writhed beneath me, whispering my name.

"Caspian…"

I repeated with the other breast, relieved that she was enjoying my efforts, as I hadn't the slightest clue what would please her…I so desperately wished to please her.

My lips trailed across her chest, down her stomach, over her ribs, lower, lower, to her navel. A sweet scent arose from her sex. It re-awaked the savage hunger in me. I yanked down her undergarments, and her knees flew together as on instinct to shield her womanhood from my wanton gaze. My fingertips grazed over the soft tuft of hair covering her plump mound.

"Open your legs for me, my love," I whispered gently with a tender kiss upon it.

I had heard reference to what I was about to attempt aboard the Dawn Treader. Intoxicated sailors reminiscing about their wives, old lovers and whores they've bedded in the past… tongues will loosen. As her legs parted, I kissed the soft lips of her womanhood over and over, as tenderly as I would the lips upon her beautiful face. Briga squirmed and moaned, her face contorting, mouth gaping… Her hands twisted in my hair.

"Caspian…"

My tongue slithered between her folds, drawing her sweet nectar into my mouth, where I held it, savored it, and swallowed before delving further, on the desperate quest for more.

"I love you! My sweet Caspian, I love you!" she moaned, bucking her hips in ecstasy against the strokes of my tongue.

My lips wrapped round her throbbing cherry-like "nub" as I heard it called by the sailors. Her body shook, and my fingers searched for her opening, probed tenderly yet with the utmost desperation. As a digit slipped inside her, Briga's eyes closed and her body formed a beautiful arch before smashing back down on the bed.

"How does that feel, love?" I uttered, hungry for her approval.

All she replied through a series of moans was "_Oh, Caspian_…"

My finger probed deeper, slowly, appreciating her inner folds and warmth. My mouth devoted itself to her sweet nub.

"I've dreamed of this," I whispered into the soft flesh of her thigh, my forefinger joined by the middle, pumping fervently in and out of her, "At night, in this very bed… Pretending my hand was yours and…"

She began to buck and writhe wildly, as though seizing- as though possessed by some unknown, ancient force. And she rested, falling silent and still save for her ragged breath. I withdrew my fingers, covered in her dew. I sucked the taste of her from my fingers, wishing it could hold it on my palate forever.

Briga's serene face smiled down at me as she lay spent, her hands lazily stroking my hair.

"You, my darling…are incredible…"

I moved up to meet her lips, my manhood at full attention against her thigh. It nearly quivered with want for my beloved.

"Shall we have you sorted, then?" she grinned, her hand trailing down my stomach toward my sex, her lips following suit.

I wanted nothing more than to cry out "YES!" but as I looked down at her, I could only hear her words earlier in the evening.

_They think I am your whore!_

I halted her hand at my navel. I brought it to my lips and kissed it, and I smiled.

"I may be wanton, but I'll have your purity preserved, my love… Until our wedding night."

Briga frowned slightly, resting her hands on my back.

"But, my love, what about you-"

I silenced her with a gentle kiss.

"You are no less than a queen, and I will treat you as no less."

Our foreheads touched for a long moment and I tasted her lips again. My eyes locked with hers, a soft smiling forming on my lips.

"Just allow me to kiss you… I'll handle my…predicament…"

Briga giggled, crawling on top of me, showering my face and lips in sweet kisses as I pleasured myself with unprecedented zeal until I expelled into the sheets. Beneath the covers we lay, clinging to each other, our breathing creating a rhythmic melody. I would swear that our heartbeats are synchronized.


End file.
